The Complete 12 Novels of Mark Twain. Mark Twain
cursed Benedict Arnold as if he were a personal friend who had broken faith — but a week gone by.
CHAPTER VI.
We skip ten years and this history finds certain changes to record.
Judge Hawkins and Col. Sellers have made and lost two or three moderate fortunes in the meantime and are now pinched by poverty. Sellers has two pairs of twins and four extras. In Hawkins’s family are six children of his own and two adopted ones. From time to time, as fortune smiled, the elder children got the benefit of it, spending the lucky seasons at excellent schools in St. Louis and the unlucky ones at home in the chafing discomfort of straightened circumstances.
Neither the Hawkins children nor the world that knew them ever supposed that one of the girls was of alien blood and parentage: Such difference as existed between Laura and Emily is not uncommon in a family. The girls had grown up as sisters, and they were both too young at the time of the fearful accident on the Mississippi to know that it was that which had thrown their lives together.
And yet any one who had known the secret of Laura’s birth and had seen her during these passing years, say at the happy age of twelve or thirteen, would have fancied that he knew the reason why she was more winsome than her school companion.
Philosophers dispute whether it is the promise of what she will be in the careless schoolgirl, that makes her attractive, the undeveloped maidenhood, or the mere natural, careless sweetness of childhood. If Laura at twelve was beginning to be a beauty, the thought of it had never entered her head. No, indeed. Her mind was filled with more important thoughts. To her simple schoolgirl dress she was beginning to add those mysterious little adornments of ribbon-knots and earrings, which were the subject of earnest consultations with her grown friends.
When she tripped down the street on a summer’s day with her dainty hands propped into the ribbon-broidered pockets of her apron, and elbows consequently more or less akimbo with her wide Leghorn hat flapping down and hiding her face one moment and blowing straight up against her fore head the next and making its revealment of fresh young beauty; with all her pretty girlish airs and graces in full play, and that sweet ignorance of care and that atmosphere of innocence and purity all about her that belong to her gracious time of life, indeed she was a vision to warm the coldest heart and bless and cheer the saddest.
Willful, generous, forgiving, imperious, affectionate, improvident, bewitching, in short — was Laura at this period. Could she have remained there, this history would not need to be written. But Laura had grown to be almost a woman in these few years, to the end of which we have now come — years which had seen Judge Hawkins pass through so many trials.
When the judge’s first bankruptcy came upon him, a homely human angel intruded upon him with an offer of $1,500 for the Tennessee Land. Mrs. Hawkins said take it. It was a grievous temptation, but the judge withstood it. He said the land was for the children — he could not rob them of their future millions for so paltry a sum. When the second blight fell upon him, another angel appeared and offered $3,000 for the land. He was in such deep distress that he allowed his wife to persuade him to let the papers be drawn; but when his children came into his presence in their poor apparel, he felt like a traitor and refused to sign.
But now he was down again, and deeper in the mire than ever. He paced the floor all day, he scarcely slept at night. He blushed even to acknowledge it to himself, but treason was in his mind — he was meditating, at last, the sale of the land. Mrs. Hawkins stepped into the room. He had not spoken a word, but he felt as guilty as if she had caught him in some shameful act. She said:
“Si, I do not know what we are going to do. The children are not fit to be seen, their clothes are in such a state. But there’s something more serious still. — There is scarcely a bite in the house to eat.”
“Why, Nancy, go to Johnson — — .”
“Johnson indeed! You took that man’s part when he hadn’t a friend in the world, and you built him up and made him rich. And here’s the result of it: He lives in our fine house, and we live in his miserable log cabin. He has hinted to our children that he would rather they wouldn’t come about his yard to play with his children, — which I can bear, and bear easy enough, for they’re not a sort we want to associate with much — but what I can’t bear with any quietness at all, is his telling Franky our bill was running pretty high this morning when I sent him for some meal — and that was all he said, too — didn’t give him the meal — turned off and went to talking with the Hargrave girls about some stuff they wanted to cheapen.”
“Nancy, this is astounding!”
“And so it is, I warrant you. I’ve kept still, Si, as long as ever I could. Things have been getting worse and worse, and worse and worse, every single day; I don’t go out of the house, I feel so down; but you had trouble enough, and I wouldn’t say a word — and I wouldn’t say a word now, only things have got so bad that I don’t know what to do, nor where to turn.” And she gave way and put her face in her hands and cried.
“Poor child, don’t grieve so. I never thought that of Johnson. I am clear at my wit’s end. I don’t know what in the world to do. Now if somebody would come along and offer $3,000 — Uh, if somebody only would come along and offer $3,000 for that Tennessee Land.”
“You’d sell it, Si!” said Mrs. Hawkins excitedly.
“Try me!”
Mrs. Hawkins was out of the room in a moment. Within a minute she was back again with a business-looking stranger, whom she seated, and then she took her leave again. Hawkins said to himself, “How can a man ever lose faith? When the blackest hour comes, Providence always comes with it — ah, this is the very timeliest help that ever poor harried devil had; if this blessed man offers but a thousand I’ll embrace him like a brother!”
The stranger said:
“I am aware that you own 75,000 acres, of land in East Tennessee, and without sacrificing your time, I will come to the point at once. I am agent of an iron manufacturing company, and they empower me to offer you ten thousand dollars for that land.”
Hawkins’s heart bounded within him. His whole frame was racked and wrenched with fettered hurrahs. His first impulse was to shout “Done! and God bless the iron company, too!”
But a something flitted through his mind, and his opened lips uttered nothing. The enthusiasm faded away from his eyes, and the look of a man who is thinking took its place. Presently, in a hesitating, undecided way, he said:
“Well, I — it don’t seem quite enough. That — that is a very valuable property — very valuable. It’s brim full of iron-ore, sir — brim full of it! And copper, coal, — everything — everything you can think of! Now, I’ll tell you what I’ll do. I’ll reserve everything except the iron, and I’ll sell them the iron property for $15,000 cash, I to go in with them and own an undivided interest of one-half the concern — or the stock, as you may say. I’m out of business, and I’d just as soon help run the thing as not. Now how does that strike you?”
“Well, I am only an agent of these people, who are friends of mine, and I am not even paid for my services. To tell you the truth, I have tried to persuade them not to go into the thing; and I have come square out with their offer, without throwing out any feelers — and I did it in the hope that you would refuse. A man pretty much always refuses another man’s first offer, no matter what it is. But I have performed my duty, and will take pleasure in telling them what you say.”
He was about to rise. Hawkins said,
“Wait a bit.”
Hawkins thought again. And the substance of his thought was: “This is a deep man; this is a very deep man; I don’t like his candor; your ostentatiously candid business man’s a deep fox — always a deep fox; this man’s